Page 32 of A Shard of Ice

Kakara, strike me down!

I stand. “I’m going to go look for firewood.” The sooner I’m far away from this prick, the better.

“Will you help me bathe, Kyrie?” Cyrano asks.

I roll my eyes. Jessop’s tit, but this bastard is pushing hard. It’s clear that he has his sights set on Kyrie, who can do so much better.

There is a moment of silence where none of us moves. I don’t think I breathe.

“That wouldn’t be proper,” she says.

My mouth twitches as I hold back a laugh. The idiot deserves it.

“I’m sure Damon wouldn’t mind helping you bathe,” she adds.

“I wouldn’t mind at all.” I wink at the prick, who blanches. More like drown the scoundrel. His hair could do with a good wash and rinse. For that to happen, I’d have to hold him under for a good long time.

He must see the gleam in my eye and the wicked smile toying with my lips because Cyrano quickly says, “I’m sure I’ll manage after a short rest.”

That’s what I thought. The audacity to even ask such a thing.

I turn and start toward the more wooded part of the oasis.

“Say, what is that on your back, fae?”

I stiffen. Curse on the gods, I forgot about my marking. I haven’t had it for so long that I completely forgot that it was there. It needs to stay covered if I am to keep my identity hidden.

I’m sure to keep my tone neutral. “A decorative marking. Fae like to put ink under their skin,” I say as I start to walk again.

“I thought that only fae of high rank had such elaborate designs, especially designs with gold or silver in them. Yours is impressive indeed for a nobody.”

I shut my eyes, squeezing them tight for a moment. Then I turn, my expression impassive. “That used to be the case, but it isn’t so much anymore, not for many years. It’s become commonplace for us regular folk to get markings, too.” I give a half smile and walk away.

It was stupid of me to walk around so carelessly. I still trust Kyrie. I think she trusts me deep down inside. It might be against her will, but she trusts me.

Cyrano is another story altogether. I will need to sleep with one eye open with him around. I trust him even less with Kyrie.

10

Kyrie

“I’ll fill the skins,” Damon tells me. “Would you mind double-checking that the saddlebags are properly secured?” he asks me.

I nod. “Sure.”

Cyrano walks toward us. He said he was feeling light-headed and needed to sit for a while. He’s still weak after his ordeal. I hope he’s well enough to travel, but as Damon pointed out, we don’t want to get caught by the fae, which is what will happen if we stay too long.

“Are you feeling a little better?” I ask him.

He touches my hip, leaving his hand there. “Thanks for caring so much, Kyrie.”

I note that Damon hasn’t left to fill the skins. When I look, his gaze is on Cyrano’s hand; a deep frown has formed on his forehead.

I take a small step back, breaking the contact, not because Damon is watching but because it is making me uncomfortable. “Has the dizziness passed?”

Damon puts the straps over his shoulder and starts toward the water.

“I’m feeling much better. Your suggestion to rest was right. I should listen to you more often.” His eyes move to my mouth.

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